


Trenches and Charms

by snowtamale



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Diners, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, California, Diners, F/F, Femslash February, Summer Love, Summer Romance, Surfing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 09:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17847026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowtamale/pseuds/snowtamale
Summary: Fifteen years ago, Aubrey and Stacie got married on a fruit-by-the-foot wrapper in the parking lot behind Dottie's diner. Now, they're both back in town for the first time in over a decade. And while Aubrey has found solace in California, Stacie can barely stand to stay at home for longer than a week.ORThe diner!au that turned into something else.





	Trenches and Charms

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted an excuse to write about a town that I love, so I wrote this. It was supposed to be a diner!au...it really isn't that.

21 days on.

7 days off.

21 days on.

7 days off.

21 days away from home.

7 days at home.

21 days as ‘Stacie the Lead Engineer’.

7 days as Stacie.

There’s nothing quite like landing at SFO. Stacie’s watched from the window seat hundreds of times and still, every time they start descending, she finds herself captivated by the view as they fly into the bay. Today, the skies are blue and the sun is shining. 

Stacie almost laughs with giddiness when she steps outside into the sun-warmed air. For the next seven days, there’s no inane questions from any contractors, no incompetent EITs, no logistical issues to sort out. For the next seven days, she can just _be_.

And thirty minutes later as soon as Stacie takes the exit for Highway 1, wispy bits of fog envelope the car. Her jeep rattles around the first turn and Stacie exhales in relief when the fog settles around the car, so dense it looks like rain on her windshield. 

Stacie takes a quick glance to her right, trying to get any glimpse of the beach or ocean, but all Stacie can see is a wall of white. Still, the view makes her smile even as her car creaks in protest with the speed she takes through the next turn.

It isn’t until she’s off the highway, pulling onto a side street and parking next to the diner that sits on the corner of her street, that Stacie feels _home_. 

-

“Hello?” 

Stacie calls out, the old front door creaking on it’s hinges as she pushes the door open. There’s no answer to her greeting, so Stacie dumps her bags in her room before heading out to their backyard. 

“Hey dad,” Stacie calls out into the open air.

His head pops up from behind a row of tomato plants and before Stacie can take another step into the garden, her dad is carefully moving his six foot seven, two hundred pound frame through the tight walkway in their garden. He wraps her up in a hug, making her laugh when he lifts her off her feet for a split second. 

“Stace! You’re home.”

“Just got in. Where’s Max?” Stacie says, once both of her feet are touching the ground again.

“Graduation dress rehearsal. How was the site?”

“Good. This project might actually finish on time. How’s your work?”

“Fine. Glad tax season is over for now.”

There’s a pause when Stacie nods, unsure of where to lead the conversation now that she’s exhausted the two topics she and her dad usually talk about. Her dad surprises her when he breaks the prolonged silence. 

“Are you going over to Dottie’s?”

Stacie nods and her dad gestures towards a basket bursting with greens at the edge of the garden closest to Stacie.

“I made her a basket. Can you bring it over to her?”

She steps towards the basket and peeks inside.

“Blueberries already?”

“It’s the first harvest. There’ll be plenty more coming” 

“Thanks dad.”

“Those berries aren’t for you, they’re for Dottie,” he reminds her, smiling when he catches her popping a couple into her mouth.

“Taste test,” Stacie defends and steps towards her dad to wrap him in a hug again. 

He drops a kiss on the top of her head and hugs her back as tightly. 

“I’m going to go drop this off,” Stacie says, finally stepping back and picking up the basket.

“I’ll finish up here. Family game night after dinner tonight?”

“Sure dad.”

-

“Hey Dottie,” Stacie calls out, the bells hanging from the handle jangle with the movement of the door. “I- you’re not Dottie.”

“Yeah, she-“

“Aubrey?”

“Yeah,” Aubrey stretches out the word, eyeing Stacie suspiciously, trying to place her.

“Stacie,” Stacie gestures at herself.

“Stacie??!” Aubrey’s eyes widen in recognition and she looks over Stacie head to toe, “Stacie Conrad? From down the street?”

Stacie nods with a small smile. She shuffles from one foot to the other, a part of her wanting to hug Aubrey but unsure of how exactly to greet the girl who was the highlight of her summers after a decade and a half. Aubrey holds out her hand and Stacie shakes Aubrey’s hand while maintaining her smile despite the disappointment that settles in her stomach. 

“So you’re visiting? Wait. Dottie. Is she-”

“I’m still alive,” Dottie interrupts from behind her and Stacie whirls around in surprise. “How old do you think I am Stacie? Bree’s just here to help me out.”

Before Stacie can even think about apologizing, Dottie reaches out and pulls Stacie into a tight hug. Dottie keeps her close for a long moment before pushing Stacie away from her and studying Stacie’s face. Stacie moves to brush her hair from her face, but Dottie grabs hold of her hands before she can. 

“It’s good to see you but Stacie honey, you look tired, your job is too stressful, and you should really eat better,” Dottie says, her words rapid-fire but her voice gentle.

“I’m fine. And how do you even know what I’m eating?” Stacie scoffs with an amused smile.

“21 days away from home, working, isn’t fine,” Dottie shakes her head, squeezing Stacie’s hand one last time before she lets Stacie go. “You want waffles?”

“My dad sent me over with this,” Stacie answers, remembering the basket. Dottie takes it from her hands, uncovering it to look at what’s inside.

“He spoils me. Sit down at the counter. Let’s see how good these blueberries are.”

“My dad is making pasta for dinner.”

“Waffles are the perfect first course.”

“Let me at least help.”

Dottie shoots Stacie a look and Stacie immediately sits down at the counter, chastised. Aubrey follows Dottie past the swinging doors and into the kitchen, only to be pushed back out into the dining room a second later.

“Bree can keep you entertained.”

Aubrey finally looks her in the eye again. Dottie goes back into the kitchen and they can hear her clattering around. Aubrey slips behind the counter while Stacie takes her ‘usual’ seat right beside the till.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

-

Even at home, Stacie wakes up just before the sun rises. Usually, she has to force herself out of bed before she can fall back asleep. But today, the excitement about her brother’s impending graduation buzzes through her veins. 

She tiptoes around the house just long enough to drink a cup of tea and squeeze herself into a wetsuit before she swings a bag over her shoulder and drags her board off its shelf, tucking it under her arm. The beach is empty and the sun is barely rising above the hills behind her. She takes a second to enjoy the cool Pacific breeze on her face and then she’s running down the beach, her feet going numb as soon as she takes a step into the surf. 

Stacie pushes the board in front of her and flops down onto her stomach, enjoying the solid feeling of the board under her as cold saltwater churns and splashes around her. She’s nearly through the surf zone when she looks up see a wave about to crash down onto her. Stacie barely has enough time to take a breath and duck her head before a wave comes crashing down on top of her dragging her back towards the beach. 

_“Take your time, look for a channel, and time the sets.”_

Her mom’s voice echoes in her head and Stacie pushes herself up off the sandy bottom, gasping in relief when her head finally resurfaces. 

_“Take your time, look for a channel, and time the sets.”_

She reaches down to tug at the leash, pulling her board back towards her. Once the board is solidly under her again, Stacie carefully paddles towards the horizon again, making it past the breaking waves this time. The waves aren’t spectacular and it takes a handful of of waves before Stacie finds one to ride. 

_“Stay with the wave. Stay with the wave. Stay with the wave.”_

Stacie can’t stay with the wave though. She paddles as hard as she can, trying to stay with the wave until the wave behind her crashes on top her, ripping her body from her board and pushing her underwater. When she finally pops up, the surf has dragged her most of the way back to the beach.

-

Stacie rinses the saltwater off at the showers on the edge of the parking lot. She inhales the salty, humid air of the sea, trying to stave off the existential crisis that takes over every time she’s home. It isn’t until her teeth are clattering together and she can’t stop her body from shivering that Stacie finally moves from under the spray of the shower and digs into her bag for a towel. 

With a flick of her wrist, she jerks her towel from her bag, shaking drops of water from her hair. She tugs hard on the zipper of her wet suit until she can peel the material away from her torso. In less than thirty seconds, Stacie gets the wetsuit untangled from her legs and wraps herself in a dry hoodie with a towel tied around her waist.

Out of habit, Stacie makes her way up the block and crosses the street to Dottie’s diner. She leans her board against the side of the building in her usual place and pushes through the front door.

“We’re still closed for another half an hour,” a voice shouts from the back. “Oh. Stacie!”

Aubrey smiles when she pokes her head out into the dining room and sees Stacie standing stiffly in her doorway.

“Aubrey. Hi.”

Stacie waits, hoping to hear Dottie’s voice pipe up from the back, but the silence in the diner lingers instead. Aubrey isn’t ushering her out of the diner, but she’s not welcoming Stacie in either. Aubrey’s just kind of staring at her with an unsure smile on her face.

“Is Dottie around?”

“She’s doing yoga down at Sharp Park. Is it something I can help with?”

Stacie opens her mouth to speak but her stomach growls before she gets any words out. Her face flushes red and Stacie feels warm all over. Aubrey’s smile turns into a genuine one and she sounds amused when she asks,

“Do you want some waffles?”

“No. It’s fine. I’m not even wearing pants.”

“Come on.”

“Seriously, Aubrey. I can-”

“I have an extra pair of pants too.”

“I live half a block away.”

“I have fresh blueberries delivered this morning and I have the ingredients for special batter too.”

“Dottie’s special batter?”

Aubrey nods and Stacie takes Aubrey’s proffered hand, allowing Aubrey to drag her through the dining room back to the kitchen. They pause briefly at the small office on the near side of the kitchen for Aubrey to grab a pair of pants. She passes them to Stacie, who lets the towel drop where she stands and steps into the slightly too short jeans.

Besides the length they fit fine. Stacie looks up to thank Aubrey only to find Aubrey’s back turned towards her and Aubrey hiding her face in her hands. Stacie tries not to laugh.

“You can turn around now.”

Aubrey turns, her face bright red and Stacie briefly wonders _when_ exactly Aubrey decided to turn around. 

“Thanks for the jeans.”

“Anytime.”

Stacie knows they’ve been staring at each other for a beat too long but neither of them look away. 

“So, waffles?”

Aubrey clears her throat, “wash your hands, you can help me make the batter.”

-

“So, Aubrey’s special waffles are better than yours.”

“There’s no need to tell hurtful bold faced lies-“

“You ditched me this morning!”

“I left you in capable hands.”

“Can’t believe sunrise yoga took my place,” Stacie says, shaking her head in mock disappointment, “So, Aubrey-“

“She’s going to be helping me out with the diner,” Dottie interrupts, answering Stacie’s question before Stacie can even ask.

“You’re leaving?”

“It’s time for me to take a step back and relax.”

Stacie nods and watches Dottie putter around the kitchen, throwing ingredients into a steaming pot. Her eyes follow Dottie’s movement through the kitchen, but Stacie’s mind jumps back to the day her mom told Stacie that she was sick. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m in perfect health Stacie. Don’t worry,” Dottie answers, waving off Stacie’s concern, “I’ve worked at the diner for the last 30 years. I need a break.”

Stacie lets out the breath she’d been holding and reaches out to wrap Dottie in a hug.

“I’m gonna miss you.”

“Don’t be dramatic just because I won’t be making you waffles every morning. We still have our Friday nights,” Dottie reminds her, hugging back tightly.

“I guess I can live with that,” Stacie mumbles with a watery laugh.

Dottie goes back to stirring whatever is in the large stock pot, steaming. She waits for a few seconds before casually turning to Stacie as though she’s just remembered something.

“Aubrey is upstairs. She’s going to join us.”

“Are you pimping your niece out to me?”

“She’s single.”

“Dottie-”

“I’m just putting it out there. What you do with the information is your business.”

Stacie rolls her eyes and doesn’t dignify Dottie with a response and Dottie has a barely contained grin on her face when she looks up at Stacie and asks,

“Can you get go tell her it’s dinner time?”

Stacie resists the urge to roll her eyes again and makes her way towards the stairs. She’s barely swung around the banister when she comes face to chest with Aubrey.

“Woah. Hey.”

“It’s dinner time,” Stacie announces dumbly, unable to keep from staring _right at_ Aubrey’s chest. It takes a second before she has the good sense look determinedly to her left, admiring the woodwork of the banister.

“Okay.”

Aubrey stands there for another second, expecting Stacie to move. She steps around Stacie, grabbing Stacie by her shoulders to shift Stacie so that Aubrey can step past her on the step. The warm press of Aubrey’s body against her own, however brief, combined with the _view_ of Aubrey’s chest turn Stacie’s brain into a puddle of goo.

Stacie knows she should follow Aubrey into the kitchen room but her feet won’t move and her heart pounds.

“Stacie, are you coming?” Dottie shouts, sounding far too pleased with herself.

-

“Hey,” Stacie wanders into the kitchen just as Aubrey turns the tap off. “Dottie went up to bed. Do you need a hand?”

Aubrey tosses Stacie a drying towel and Stacie starts drying the dishes as Aubrey hands them over. They work in silence, standing side by side, their elbows and shoulders brushing and bumping occasionally. 

“Thanks again for your pants this morning.”

“What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours, right? Or have the rules of our marriage changed since the last time I looked.”

“You remember that?”

“We got married Stacie. I’m not likely to forget.”

“I can’t believe you’re referencing the fifteen year old wedding vows written on a fruit roll up wrapper we signed as kids.”

“It was a fruit-by-the-foot wrapper and a contract is a contract Stacie.”

Stacie smiles, watching Aubrey scrub the side of the pot for another second before she’s putting the drying towel down.

“Well then switch places with me.”

“What?”

“If I remember correctly, the second line item is that I’d help you clean up the treehouse after our tea parties.”

Aubrey beams at her and slides over to Stacie’s side of the sink with a soft laugh. 

//

_21 days later._

Stacie swings her trunk closed forcefully, the metal frame of the trunk clanging as the lock latches shut. The fog hangs low in the early morning sky, leaving only the yellowed street lamps to give any kind of light. Stacie breathes in the smell of the sea and fog, enjoying it for a second before shouldering her duffle bag and starting up the street towards her house.

“Stacie!”

Stacie turns to see Aubrey’s head poking out from the back door of the diner, “I made an extra stack of blueberry for you.”

“You’re not open for another hour.”

“I need to eat breakfast too.”

Stacie rolls her eyes but crosses the road to the diner. Following Aubrey through the back door into the kitchen. 

“Is there a good place to put this?” Stacie asks, slapping at the side of her bag.

Aubrey ushers her to the back part of the kitchen near where Aubrey’s office is. Stacie drops her bag on the chair and follows Aubrey back to the kitchen counter. She’s barely sat down when Aubrey slides the stack of still warm blueberry waffles in front of her. Before she can even ask, there’s a bottle of syrup in front of her too. 

“Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Aubrey smiles, taking the syrup to douse her own stack of waffles in. 

Stacie all but inhales the first waffle before Aubrey even has a chance to have her first bite. 

“I think I might be in love,” Stacie moans through bites of syrupy waffle.

“You show your love by eating the object of your affections?” Aubrey asks, stabbing at a bite of waffle.

Stacie licks some extra syrup off the side of her hand, “is there a better way?”

With the faintest trace of pink on her cheeks, Aubrey clears her throat and changes the subject, “so how is work?”

“Ugh.”

-

The sun is barely kissing the horizon by the time Stacie paddles into shore and showers off. She ties her towel around her waist as she walks up the street to the diner. Sand slowly falls off her legs and back as the last rays of sun warm her skin.

She leans her board up against the diner in its usual spot before going into the diner and sliding into her usual seat at the counter. 

“Stacie? Is that you?”

“Hey Bree-”

“Perfect timing.”

Aubrey comes out of the kitchen, a plate of waffles in each hand. She places them on the counter, grinning when Stacie closes her eyes and inhales deeply. 

“They smell amazing.”

Stacie’s about to dig into her waffle, when Aubrey interrupts.

“Can I ask you something? Wife to wife.”

Stacie feels her heart almost skip a beat when Aubrey plays along with their childhood fruit-by-the-foot marriage, “Sure. What do you want to know?”

Aubrey leans down behind the counter to grab something and then drops a hardcover book beside her plate. The book is open to a page, with a half-page group photo featuring Stacie standing at the front and center of the group, holding a sign. 

“How were _you_ the queen of the nerds?!?”

“I was the captain of the math olympiad team. We weren’t- okay, we were nerds,” Stacie concedes, her face reddening as she leafs through a few pages of the yearbook before pushing it back towards Aubrey. “Where’d you get this, anyway?”

“Dottie found it in her attic when we were cleaning it out.”

“Of course she happened to find it.”

“I think it’s cute.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“You had a lot of admirers for being a nerd,” Aubrey comments, thoughtfully thumbing through the back pages where her former classmates signed her yearbook.

“What was your deal in high school?”

“Hm?”

“Come on. You know I was a mathlete. It can’t possibly be worse than that,” Stacie presses. “Were you president of the student body and head cheerleader _and_ annoyingly voted as Homecoming Queen too?”

“I played softball,” Aubrey finally answers after a long pause. Stacie can’t stop the smile that spreads across her face but even before she says anything, Aubrey continues. “Whatever gay joke you’re going to make. Please don’t.”

Stacie raises her hands, attempting to adjust her smirk into a more innocent smile, “what position?”

“Guess,” Aubrey says, closing Stacie’s yearbook to meet her gaze.

“I don’t know. Second base?”

“You think _I_ played second?”

“First base then?”

“I was the catcher,” Aubrey admits, unable to keep eye contact with Stacie.

It takes a second and then Stacie is laughing so hard, she falls off her stool. 

-

“I can’t believe you showed, no, _gave_ Aubrey that yearbook.”

“What do you have to be ashamed about?”

“I was captain of the mathletes back then,” Stacie reminds Dottie, handing her a plate.

“And now you’re an engineer.”

“Did you just imply that engineering isn’t cool? Engineering is cool. I’m cool.”

Dottie dries the pot silently, saying nothing verbally; her face says it all.

“You’re right. I’m a nerd,” Stacie acquiesced, dropping her hand back into the soapy sink. 

Stacie washes a single bowl before Dottie asks, “So what’s going on between you and Aubrey?”

“Nothing.”

Dottie stops drying the plate she’s holding to look at Stacie. Stacie stops washing to face Dottie. 

“I mean it. Nothing is happening. We’re friends.”

Dottie studies her face for another moment before she turns back to the plate in her hands, “you hate doing the dishes.”

“Everyone hates doing the dishes. Someone’s gotta do them.”

“You and I have been having Friday night dinners for years and not once have you so much as loaded the dishwasher,” Dottie points out.

“Well I’m a grown up now.”

“That must be it.”

“Is it also a new a grown up thing to visit home every twenty-one days instead of just three times a year?”

“I’m homesick.”

“Stacie.”

“I’m honoring a contract,” Stacie finally relents, hoping the answer is enough to satisfy Dottie’s curiosity. “Besides, there’s only so many times you can blow off steam in Vegas with your co-workers.”

“Whatever you say.”

//

_21 days later._

“Stacie! You’re back! Again!” Dottie shouts, wrapping her in a hug as soon as she’s stepped through the doors. 

“Hey Dottie,”

“Your usual is open.”

The diner is full with the Saturday morning brunch crowd. Stacie waves at the faces she recognizes on her way to her stool. Dottie is immediately on the other side of the counter pouring Stacie a cup of water and a cup of coffee.

“Thanks Dottie.”

“You’re back again?”

“It’s Max’s last summer at home.”

“You know your excuses are getting thinner.”

“Max is my brother. I want to spend time with him.”

“Well, your brother is away at camp this week.”

“My dad gets lonely.”

“Your order will be up soon,” Dottie smirks, knowingly before she leaves Stacie at the counter, sliding to the other end of the counter to serve the other regulars. 

In seconds, a plate of waffles slides in front of her.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Stacie puts her phone down, flashing Aubrey a grin as she pulls the stack of waffles towards her. Aubrey hands her a silverware set before she can even ask. 

“You’re back in town this week?” Aubrey asks, mindlessly checking and refilling the salt shaker in front of Stacie.

“The next seven days.”

Aubrey opens her mouth to speak again, but before she has a chance, a shout comes from the kitchen, “Aubrey! We need you back here.”

“I have to-” Aubrey says, jerking her thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “I’ll see you later?”

“Later.”

-

Stacie hurriedly scribbles a note in the margin of the page she’s reading. Her mouth moves with the words she’s reading and it takes a second for her to answer. Stacie pushes her slipping glasses up her nose with the back of an ink smudged hand as Aubrey admires her complete focus on the report in front of her.

“You stuck around.”

Stacie’s head snaps up, surprised to see Aubrey directly across the counter from her, “of course.”

“Light reading?” Aubrey nods towards the stack of papers in Stacie’s hand.

“Something like that.”

Stacie unceremoniously drops the report onto the table. The pen that was in her hand clatters across the counter and falls off the other side onto the ground, but neither of them notice. 

“Thanks for the waffles.”

“Anytime.”

//

_21 days later._

“I’ll be right out,” Aubrey’s voice calls out muffled by the counter she’s ducked behind when the diner’s bell rings.

“Take your time.”

At the sound of Stacie’s voice, Aubrey’s head pops up from behind the counter.

“Stacie!”

“Aubrey!”

“Has it been a month already?”

“21! Count ‘em,” Stacie all but yells, throwing her head back and laughing at herself.

Aubrey frowns, noticing that Stacie is swaying where she stands, “are you drunk?”

“I have been drinking. But only after I drove here.”

“You still want waffles? The first batch of apples your dad dropped off have been really sweet.”

“As sweet as you?” Stacie asks with an exaggerated wink.

Aubrey rolls her eyes but starts taking out the ingredients for batter and a bag of apples. “Has that line ever worked?”

“You’d be surprised.”

And before Aubrey can ask, Stacie hands her the mixer’s metal bowl and the batter paddle. Aubrey takes the instruments with a smile and starts mixing all the dry ingredients together.

“How’s everything?”

“Work is super duper sucky.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s why the drinking,” Stacie slurs waving her arm in explanation. “We should drink together.”

“Maybe when you’re not already drunk.”

-

The sheets are softer than she’s used to. Stacie tries to bury her face further into the pillow avoiding whatever sound is being blasted into her ears until she realizes the sound is Aubrey’s voice. 

“Hey drunky,” Aubrey’s voice is loud even muffled by the comforter firmly over Stacie’s head.

“I’m so sorry Aubrey,” Stacie says into the pillow.

“You have nothing to apologize for. You were...amusing.”

Stacie groans, lightly smacking the pillow, then turning onto her side to face Aubrey.

“Where-”

“My bed.”

“Did we-”

“You were asleep in the jeep before we got here.”

That gives Stacie pause, “I live across the street from the diner, why-”

“You put your house keys down your pants and then told me to _go get ‘em_. Driving here was easier.”

“I am so sorry Aubrey.”

//

_21 days later._

“Thanks for picking up lunch.”

“It’s the least I could do after all the waffles you’ve made me.”

Stacie tosses Aubrey her sandwich and uncaps two bottles of beer as Aubrey lays out the beach blanket.

“How is the project going?”

“We’re already three weeks behind our renegotiated deadline,” Stacie sighs, all but collapsing onto the sandy blanket, “so business as usual.”

“Do you like your job?”

Stacie takes a second to think about it. She has a mouthful of sandwich so she chews until it is the most well masticated bite of sandwich by the time she swallows.

“It’s challenging and interesting. Every project has its own set of hard problems to solve.”

“What?”

“That was a canned response.”

“It’s the truth.”

Aubrey scoffs, “do you like your job”

“Do I have to like what I do?”

Aubrey shakes her head no and turns her attention towards the surfers on the water, but her face remains thoughtful. When she doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, Stacie breaks the silence. 

“What?”

“What?”

“What Aubrey?”

“Why are you so committed to a job that keeps you away from home for so long? Why do you keep doing it if you don’t even like it?”

“It’s my job Aubrey.”

“There are jobs here you could hate. But you choose a job that takes you to the most remote places.”

Stacie doesn’t say anything. Aubrey is right and Aubrey is the first person to ever call her out on all the excuses she’s given over the years. 

Her job has been a miserable suckfest for years. Stacie made it through her first few years by blowing off steam in Vegas for seven days between each field rotation. The further she’s gotten into her twenties though, the more empty and hollow those trips and friends have begun to feel. Using her mouth to get a twenty-dollar bill into a go-go dancer’s g-string is only fun the first ten times.

“Do _you_ like your job?”

“I do.” Aubrey takes a swig of beer and continues, “I miss some things from my old job. Serving a plate of waffles isn’t as thrilling as closing a multi-million dollar deal.”

“I guess not.”

“But I wasn’t really me. I was great at closing deals but then that’s what I became. I was _the closer_. Outside of the office I had no idea who I was or what I wanted.”

“So what happened?”

“Dottie,” Aubrey explains.

Stacie laughs out loud at the one word explanation, “she has a habit of getting her way.”

“She does.”

//

_21 days later._

Aubrey checks the date on the calendar again, hoping that she’s just counted wrong. It’s been 21 days since she last saw Stacie and it’s unusual not to at least see Stacie in passing. Stacie’s jeep isn’t parked on the corner of the street and there’s no surfboard leaning up against the side of the diner.

It’s weirdly disappointing. 

She didn’t _expect_ Stacie to show up for breakfast every twenty-one days on the dot, but Stacie has always arrived early in the morning on the twenty second day without fail. 

Even the diner’s routine, isn’t enough to distract her. The counter and stools have never been cleaner and she’s checked three times that they have the right amount of ingredients stocked for the long week ahead. She and Dottie are supposed to be coming up with ideas for daily specials but Aubrey can’t stop staring at the curb where the jeep should be parked across the street.

“...and then on Monday more bread. Apparently the bakery is trying a new sourdough starter and they want to see if we like it. I know you’re not big on bread bowls, but I just don’t think we can sell that much bread otherwise.”

“Okay.”

“What’s got you so quiet?” Dottie asks, following Aubrey into the kitchen from the dining room. “Aubrey? Aubrey!”

“Huh? Oh. Sorry,” Aubrey finally stops walking, realizing that Dottie has been talking to her. 

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. I had a long day.”

“Honey-“

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Dottie insists, watching Aubrey watch the jeep’s parking spot. “Are you and Stacie okay?”

Aubrey chokes on air, “Me and Stacie? There’s no me and Stacie.”

“You keep looking at her parking spot,” Dottie refutes, moving around Aubrey to wipe down the other end of the table. 

“You know- you could actually ask her out. Instead of making her waffles and then wondering why she hasn’t come by the diner yet.”

“We’re friends,” Aubrey responds, tearing her eyes away from the still empty curbside.

Dottie tuts, in disbelief but doesn’t press the issue any further.

//

_7 days later._

Aubrey doesn’t even look up when the diner bell rings. It’s late in the afternoon, close enough to the sunset that the only people coming into the diner are employees or Dottie. It’s also close to the month’s end and Aubrey has a large stack of bills to distract her from the empty curbside across the street.

“I quit my job,” Stacie announces to Aubrey and the empty diner. 

Aubrey looks up from the till, her eyes wide, “You- Why?”

“It felt like the right time for a change,” Stacie answers with a shrug, barely looking at Aubrey as she walks towards where Aubrey stands at the end of the long counter.

“So what are you going to do now?”

“Job hunt?”

Aubrey nods, watching as Stacie takes every slow step across the dining room floor. Stacie finally meets her gaze when there’s just the register between them. Aubrey tries to keep her eyes fixed on Stacie’s eyes, concentrating so hard on the task, that she almost misses Stacie’s words.

“And I’m going to ask you out on a date and not one here in the diner or on the beach. I want to go on a real-”

“Ask the question Stacie.”

“Will you go out on a date with me tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll pick you up at 6,” Stacie smiles, her body relaxing finally.

“Great.”

Stacie walks backwards, back towards the door, “I’ll pick you up here?”

“Great,” Aubrey repeats, dumbly, unable to get any other words out of her mouth.

-

Aubrey is still smiling at the door a few seconds after Stacie’s left. She looks back down at the bills in front of her and takes a deep breath, trying to find her concentration again. 

The bell on the door jangles again and Aubrey looks up to find Stacie walking straight towards her.

Stacie crosses the diner in four steps, steps up to Aubrey behind the counter, wraps a hand around the back of Aubrey’s neck and pulls Aubrey towards her. Stacie leans their foreheads together, nudging her nose against Aubrey’s and then Aubrey is leaning in, barely brushing her lips to Stacie’s.

Stacie immediately deepens the kiss, using her other hand to pull Aubrey’s hips firmly against hers. Aubrey pushes her back against the counter in response. Stacie moans, her hands slowly inching up Aubrey’s torso.

“We’re in my diner,” Aubrey, pants, barely finding the will to pull away from Stacie.

“Yeah,” Stacie agrees, her lips moving along the edge of Aubrey’s jawline. When Stacie’s lips graze the soft skin of Aubrey’s neck, Aubrey can’t help but let her hands slip up under Stacie’s shirt.

“It’s still day time and there’s a big glass window,” Aubrey reminds Stacie, even as her thumb dips below the waistband of Stacie’s jeans.

“Mhmmm.”

“Stop.”

Confused, Stacie stops kissing her way down Aubrey’s neck. Aubrey still has her pinned to the counter and Stacie can’t help but stare when Aubrey absentmindedly licks her lips . Aubrey steps away, crosses the diner, locks the door, pulls down the shades, and then returns to stand in front of Stacie.

“Okay. Go.”

“Bossy.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

//


End file.
